Anna Jacobs (21 page)

“That’ll be one and sixpence then, sir.” Aubrey took the silver florin the customer held out, giving him a sixpenny piece in change. “Do you want me to wrap it up for you?”

“Yes, please. Don’t want it to get wet, do we? Looks as if the rain’s set in to stay.” He pointed to a roll of brown paper. “Ted uses that.”

Aubrey made a neat parcel and handed it over.

“New to the town, are you, young fellow?”

“Yes, sir. Just been demobbed.”

“Do you come from Tinsley?”

Something still whispered to Aubrey to keep quiet about himself. Clergymen met a lot of people and this one seemed very talkative . . . He avoided telling a direct lie. “Just looking for somewhere to settle.”

“I wish you luck, then. Don’t forget to come to church on Sunday. You’ll be made very welcome, I promise you. I’ve only been here a year myself, but they’ve made me very welcome.”

Aubrey smiled and made a non-committal noise, glad when his chatty customer left. He sat on the high stool behind the counter and let his thoughts tiptoe gently back to his name.
Frank Fleming.

But why did the thought of his surname fill him with anger? And could he be closely related to the Mr Fleming the two men at the station had feared so greatly? He hoped not.

After some thought, he decided he preferred his new first name as well as the surname Smith, which was so nice and ordinary. He’d continue to call himself Aubrey Smith whatever he did about his family, because it felt like his name now.

It was over an hour before Ted returned. “Sorry to leave you alone like that and thanks for taking over.”

“How’s your wife?”

“Resting at home. They had to put some stitches in her leg. Everything all right here?”

“I’ve sold three books for you, including this one to myself. Threepence.”

“Oh, take the book as a thank you. Never mind paying.”

“I’ve paid already.”

“Well, take the money out of the till again.” Ted handed over the threepenny bit then hesitated. “Have you found yourself a job yet?”

“No, not yet. Don’t know what I want to do since I haven’t the faintest idea what I did before.”

“You wouldn’t fancy working for me, would you? Only I’m not as young as I was and I’d like to ease off a bit, spend more time with Margaret. I can afford an employee—just. I can’t pay much, but there are a couple of rooms upstairs. You could live there for nothing.”

Aubrey stared at him and felt the genuine warmth of the other man’s smile. “I’d like to have a go, see how it suits me—and see how I suit you, for that matter. Would that be all right? I’m not sure yet whether I want to stay in Tinsley or not, you see. How about we give it a couple of months, then we’ll both know how we feel?”

“Good idea. I could tell you were a book lover the minute you stepped inside, from the expression on your face as you looked round.” Ted glanced at the book Aubrey had bought, then flicked open the front cover. “I thought so. One of Frank Fleming’s books. Poor fellow was posted missing presumed dead. The father got rid of all his things. I have some other books of his here.”

“Oh?” Aubrey tried to hide his eagerness. “Well, if they’re as much to my taste as this one, I’ll probably end up buying them. If you know where any of them are, that is . . . ”

“Oh, I know where all the books are. This place may look untidy—well, it
is
untidy, I admit that—but it’s all up here.” He tapped his forehead. “Right then, when can you start?”

“I thought I’d started already?”

Ted beamed at him. “Excellent.” He frowned. “You look a bit familiar, as if I ought to know you?”

So Aubrey explained about his lost memories. He guessed that like many soldiers he’d left home as a boy and grown up over the years of war, so he’d probably changed a lot in appearance. Which was a good thing.

He was pleased that chance that had brought him into this shop. It’d give him somewhere to live and an excuse for staying in Tinsley. Now that he knew about this Fleming fellow, he felt even less like rushing into anything.

* * * *

When Vic stopped the cab at the foot of Bridge Lane, Marcus helped Serena out and called, “We won’t be long. I just want to let Justin know we’re back and married, so that he can communicate this formally to Fleming.”

Vic beamed at them. “I didn’t want to ask at the station because you never know who’s listening, but I guessed you’d got wed. I’m really glad for you both and I wish you very happy.”

“Thanks, old chap.”

Serena walked up the street with Marcus, marvelling at how much her life had changed since the day she’d first come to find Justin Redway.

When they went into his rooms and asked to see him, he came hurrying through from the back office, calling, “If that’s who I think it is, I want to see them this minute.” He gestured to them to go through with him. “I’ve got my cousin here and she was just asking about you, Serena.”

Evadne stood up and came to take Serena’s hands. “My goodness, you do look well! I love your new hairstyle.” When Justin indicated chairs, however, she remained standing. “I’d better leave you to talk privately, but it’s nice to meet you again, Miss Fleming.”

Serena blushed. “I’m Mrs Graye now. This is my husband Marcus. Marcus, this is Evadne Blair, who helped me when I was trying to escape from—Fleming.”

“And clearly you succeeded. I’m delighted for you.” She shook hands with Marcus, then offered her cheek to Justin. “I’ll see you tonight for dinner, coz.”

When they were alone, he asked, “I gather everything went all right, then, if you two are married?”

Marcus took out the marriage certificate and offered it. “Here’s the proof of Serena’s new status.”

“Excellent.”

“Do you want to inform Fleming for us?”

“Yes, it’d be better to leave that to me. But I shall wait a little because he’s rather busy at the moment with other things. There was a fire in his office last night and the whole place burnt down. Very convenient way of hiding the evidence of what happened to Serena’s inheritance, don’t you think?”

She looked at him in dismay. “I can’t believe it!” Then she looked down and admitted, “Yes, I can. He can be very cunning.”

Marcus put his arm round her but didn’t say anything.

She took a long, shuddering breath and asked the question closest to her heart, “Do you think there’s going to be any of my money left at all? My f—Fleming, I mean, told me that he’d lost all the income he’d saved for me over the years in a bad investment.”

“We’ll see about that. I’d be surprised if he could touch the annuity itself, but there should be quite a bit of money from all these years he’s been looking after it for you, as well. If he’s telling the truth about losing it in bad investments, there should be bank records to substantiate that, even if his office records have been destroyed . . . though the bank manager is a friend of his and may prove awkward about letting us see them. We also have to deal with Hammerton and the last remaining cottage. He hasn’t answered my letter yet.”

“That place
is
still mine, isn’t it?”

“I’m not sure yet. But even if it has been sold, we’ll have first right to the money Fleming got for it. He can’t have lost that if it’s only just been paid.”

She sighed. “I can’t believe what he’s done to me. In anyone else, it would be called stealing and the person would be arrested.” She looked at Marcus, worried that he would find her less appealing as a wife without the money he’d expected her to bring to him. But to her relief all his face showed was concern.

“I’ve enough for us to live on, Serena, though not in luxury, I’m afraid.”

“I don’t need luxury to be happy.” Then a thought occurred to her and she brightened a little. “I still have my mother’s jewellery, at least. That must be worth a few hundred pounds. He didn’t get hold of that because I lodged it in the Yorkshire Penny Bank before she died.”

“That was very sensible,” Justin said approvingly, “and I’d advise you to keep it in the bank until other matters have been settled. If Fleming would try to kidnap you like that, who knows what else he’d do? I wouldn’t put it past him to try to steal the jewellery from you if you took it out of safe keeping.”

Marcus nodded agreement. “Now, is there anything else you need us to do, Justin? No? All right, we’ll leave you to tell Fleming what’s happened when you see fit. We need to settle in at the Hall, then I’ll rent out the Lodge.”

As Marcus stood up, Serena suddenly remembered something. “Oh! There are some boxes of my things still here, aren’t there? I must get a carrier to bring them out to the Hall.”

“I’ll arrange that for you, my dear. Now you two go away and enjoy settling into your new home.”

As she and her husband walked slowly down to the river, Serena explained about the things she’d taken from her old home. “I’m hoping I can alter some of my mother’s clothes.” She looked regretfully down at her smart new costume. “I can’t wear this all the time.”

“If not, we’ll buy you something else.”

“I don’t want to be a burden to you, especially if I haven’t the money you thought I had.”

He stopped walking and set his hands on her shoulders, turning her to face him. “I didn’t marry you for the money, truly I didn’t, though I admit it’d come in useful. I married you for two very selfish reasons—firstly, I didn’t want to be alone any longer and secondly I was attracted to you. And since you needed help, it seemed to me we’d both benefit.”

“Do you really mean that?”

“Of course I do.”

He was attracted to her! Happiness curled through her. “I thought—it was the money and just that you needed a wife.”

“No, Serena. I did want a wife, but I wanted it to be you.”

And she was crying suddenly, burying her face in his shoulder and sobbing as if her heart would break.

“What have I done? Serena, look at me. What have I done to upset you.”

She raised her face and sniffed, but there was a soft glow to her face as she said, “I’m not upset, I’m happy.”

He threw back his head and laughed. “I’m glad you told me. I thought women cried when they were unhappy.”

“They cry when they’re happy, too. Especially when someone has just taken a load off their mind.”

He clipped her up in a quick hug, delighted when she hugged him back. “Come on then, woman. Let’s get you home.”

* * * *

When they’d left his rooms, Justin picked up the marriage certificate, slid it carefully into his inner pocket and went out into the rain, whistling cheerfully beneath his umbrella as he strolled up to Yorkshire Road. He made his way to the magistrate’s rooms and only had to wait ten minutes to see Marley.

“I thought you ought to see this.” He passed the certificate across. “Apart from the fact that this makes her Graye’s responsibility, she signed it the same way as the others, with that dot after her name.”

“Interesting. Can you keep it somewhere safe?”

Justin frowned. “I’m wondering just where could be considered safe. Fleming is a close friend of my bank manager.”

“You don’t think Dewison would . . . ” Gerald stared at his friend. “You
do
think that!”

“It’s possible. Where do you bank?”

“At the Yorkshire Penny Bank. I never did like dealing with Dewison. Do you want me to put the certificate in my safety deposit box for you? We can use it for evidence in the other matter as well.”

“Might be a good idea. That marriage gives Serena her freedom from her so-called father and he won’t accept that without a struggle if he’s as desperate for money as we suspect.”

“So-called father?”

Justin let out a little growl of exasperation. “Damn! I hadn’t intended to let that information out yet. We have no way of proving it, but Serena’s mother told her on her deathbed that another man had fathered her.”

“Do we know who?”

“Someone called James Lang.”

Gerald stared at his friend in shock. “But I knew James! We were at school together.”

“Ah. You don’t happen to know what became of him, do you?”

“No. He just vanished, was supposed to be meeting me but never turned up, which wasn’t like him. Then I heard he’d got some girl in trouble and run off. That wasn’t like him, either. And I always thought it strange that he never even wrote to let me know he was all right, nor did he contact his family that I heard of. I presumed he was dead, had been killed in an accident or something.”

“Well, I’d be grateful if you’d keep that information to yourself for the time being.”

Justin was very thoughtful as he walked home, taking a detour to view the blackened ruins of Fleming’s rooms, which had been very thoroughly burnt down. There wasn’t a hope of salvaging any of the fellow’s papers and records.

He wondered if Westin had managed to break in and find anything before the fire. Why hadn’t the fellow been in touch?

It wasn’t until Justin was about to close the place up and go home to get ready for his dinner at Evadne’s that a short, thin man wearing a muffler over his lower face slipped into his rooms.

“I’ll deal with this gentleman,” Justin said at once to his clerk. “It’s a personal matter, not business, so you may as well leave early. No one else will be coming out in this foul weather.”

When the clerk had gone, Justin locked the outer door and only then did he turn to the man patiently waiting in a corner. “Come through.”

In his office he stared in shock as his visitor unwound the muffler. “What happened to your face, Westin?”

“Got burnt getting out of that place. Someone came in and set it alight, deliberate it was. I had to hide behind the curtains till he’d gone, but he’d started fires all over the building, so I had trouble getting out.” He hesitated. “I won’t be able to go to work till this is healed, so I was hoping you’d see fit to give me a bit extra, Mr Redway, because I did get what you wanted.”

“Show me.” Justin studied the folder, which was covered in dirty finger marks and was charred at one corner, letting out a low whistle as he saw the contents. He looked up. “You did well. I’ll pay you wages for a week or two till you’re fit to go back to work.”

“Thank you, sir. Any time you want me to do a little job for you, you just ask. You’re a gentleman, you are!”